


Going Unnoticed

by GreyLiliy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Peter Parker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Humor, Identity Issues, Light Angst, M/M, Omega Wade Wilson, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Not only did his enhanced abilities grant Peter strength, agility, and a spider-sense, it also granted him a power presence with an unmistakable, strong Alpha Scent. A Scent that gained more attention than he wanted as Peter Parker.While attempting to buy perfume to cover his Scent, he runs into an interesting Omega with a unique Scent of his own.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first discovered A/B/O fics, I read a lot of SpideyPool ones (in addition to like…Tony and Steve stories), so it’s sort of surprising that I never wrote anything for it when I started writing for the pairing. I am remedying that right now!
> 
> I needed another long form story to work on alongside Temporary House Guest, and I figured this was as good a time as any to write an A/B/O for SpideyPool. :D
> 
> Was having a hard time deciding who’d get to be the Alpha and after talking it out with some folks, decided on Omega!Wade because it’s the less represented one. Plus, I’ve been writing a lot of Angry!Peter, which would work well for a Feral Alpha. Ha ha ha. (*whisper* I love Feral Alpha so much). It’ll be a fun challenge, since I do tend to lean toward Alpha!Wade myself.
> 
> Not sure how long this’ll end up, but thank you so much for reading all the same! Enjoy!

Peter stood in the small Scent shop and hunched his shoulders to look smaller. His slim form made it easy, but he still stood out among the other patrons thanks to his own natural Scent.

The Omega clerk helping another guest kept sending him suspicious looks that burned on the back of his neck while she talked with the other Omega. He crossed his arms and hunched over more to stay small as he browsed the shelves. Peter kept his head down for extra meekness and pushed aside the small bottles looking for something that would dull his Scent, but not entirely cover it up.

He had seen an ad for Omega Scented perfume and figured he could give it a shot, but he forgot about the implications of an Alpha shopping alone. The Omega and Beta in the store continued to watch his every move, all of them likely wondering what an Alpha would want with Omega perfume. A few rotten Alpha disguised their Scents in order to sneak up on unsuspecting Omega (Peter took down one such a creep a week earlier), and he wouldn’t be surprised if the others in the store suspected Peter of the same.

He didn’t want to hide that he was an Alpha, but he’d like it if he wasn’t so…obviously an Alpha. His Scent intimidated others even when he didn’t mean to, and that ended up in a lot more attention than he wanted to draw to himself.

Spider-Man could wear the aggression on his sleeve and stop fights before they started with a strong Scent and a well placed growl.

Peter Parker wanted to disappear into the crowd and avoid the constant need to defend himself against other Alpha that took a whiff of his strong Scent and decided he was a threat to their dominance.

Not to mention it would decrease the chances someone recognized he had the same Scent as Spider-Man. Peter was already lucky no one had noticed in all the years he’d run around fighting bad guys in costume.

Thankfully Spider-Man and Peter Parker didn’t share many acquaintances.

“Can I help you?” the store clerk said to Peter’s right. She cleared her throat and her smile was strained. A hint of distress lingered under her own heavy perfume and Peter rubbed his arm. “Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

“I’m just browsing,” Peter said, taking a careful step back. “To see what there is.”

He wanted to downplay his own Scent, but that didn’t mean he wanted to walk away smelling too sweet—then he might be the center of an entirely different sort of attention.

“I see.” The Omega’s smile tightened further. She clasped her hands together and looked at the other patrons who had gathered on the far side of the store—far from Peter. “If you tell me what you’ve got in mind, I’m sure I can point you in the right direction.”

“Rude much?”

A tall man dropped his arm around the clerk’s shoulders and leaned on her, snorting in a loud and exaggerated manner. A thick hoodie hid his face, but the Scent was unmistakably that of an Omega—though there was something off about it. Peter’s nose scrunched at the almost rotting smell coming from the other man.

“I mean it, is that any way to treat a customer?” the man continued. He pointed at Peter with the hand over her shoulder. “It’s obvious you’re trying to rush him out of the store. The guy’s only been in here for five minutes and hasn’t done a thing!”

The clerk sucked in a breath and looked away, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “I wasn’t try to rush him—”

“You were,” the man said, cutting off the poor clerk. “Which again—That’s rude when you have no idea what he’s in here for. Maybe he’s buying a gift, or he wants to shake up his own Scent, or maybe he—”

“It’s okay,” Peter said, cutting in. Attracting attention was the last thing that he needed, and as nice as it was to have someone stand up for him, he was not in the mood for a confrontation. The clerk’s embarrassed cheeks were starting to turn red in anger and he wanted to cut the conversation short as soon as possible. “I’m making the others in the store uncomfortable…I can just leave.”

“Did you get what you wanted?”

Despite the shadows from the hood, Peter caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes when he asked the question and the serious look gave him pause. The Omega tapped his fingers on the irritated clerk’s shoulder and Peter shook his head.

“Then let’s help you find it!” The man took his arm off the clerk’s shoulder and gently pushed her back toward the other half of the store. “I’ll be happy to help!”

The other Omega looked like she was about to say something but she huffed and shook her head. She straightened out her skirt and left the area, though she still kept her eye on Peter and the other Omega who had taken a step closer to Peter.

He was taller than Peter realized.

Tilting his head back, Peter looked up at the buff Omega. “Thanks.”

“No problem! I can’t stand it when people pick on others because of their Class, and you don’t strike me as a bad guy—you’re not are you?” the Omega said, his voice speeding up. “Because I’m going to feel stupid if you really are in here for nefarious purposes.”

“No, nothing like that.” Peter snorted and shook his head. He turned his attention back to the shelves and picked up one of the bottles: Strawberry. He put it back and exhaled. “I’m not a fan of the spotlight, but my Scent disagrees with that. It draws way too much attention and I thought a perfume might tone it down.”

“That is adorable,” the Omega said, chuckling deep in his throat. He patted Peter on the back twice before pushed him further down the row. “But you probably want this stuff.”

The Omega pulled a bottle off the shelf and put it in Peter’s hand: A clean linen, Beta Scent.

“A neutral Scent is way better for what you’re trying to achieve. Covering a strong Scent with another Strong Scent isn’t going to work,” the Omega said. He smacked his hands together and Peter got a good look at the pair of nice leather gloves he wore. “The two Scents’ll compete and make you stand out even more.”

“That’s a good point,” Peter said. He held up the tiny bottle and shook it back and forth, sloshing the liquid around. “Thanks for the help.”

“Any time!” the Omega said. He slapped Peter on the back one more time before whistling and heading back to the Omega Scent section. He grabbed three bottles off the shelf without looking and went to the cashier. “All done!”

The clerk helped the Omega as Peter made his way to the line, the small bottle clutched in his hand to wait for his turn.

* * *

The Beta perfume worked like a charm.

Peter wished he’d thanked the Omega at the store more for his help after he went an entire day without a single Alpha posturing for a fight or an Omega trying to get his attention because they sensed his single-status.

A quick shower was all he needed to wash it off as well, and Peter suited up and hit the streets for his night patrols as Spider-Man.

Despite the one awkward moment at the store, Peter’s day had been better since that Omega had stepped in. His Scent had been dulled all day, crime was low, and he spent most of the evening enjoying a hot dog at his favorite roost as the city roared with life below him. He rested with his back against a wall, happy to sit on the side of the building and enjoy the night air before he returned home.

“Webs!”

On the roof across the alley, Deadpool waved at him with both arms. His swords shook on his back and the man walked backwards a few paces for more room before he sprinted and jumped across the gap.

Deadpool tripped on the other side, rolling as he fell and standing with a dramatic flourish.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Deadpool said, strolling up. He put his hands on his hips and his mask stretched with his smile. “How’s my favorite Hero doing?”

“Okay,” Peter answered. He finished off his hot dog and pulled his mask back down, hopping up to stand next to the mysterious man. Deadpool popped in and out of his city seemingly at random, and Peter never knew if the Mercenary was there for a visit or a job—the first of which involved encounters that could range from pleasant to annoying, and the second usually meant they’d have to fight. “What are you up to?”

“Stopping by for a visit,” Deadpool said, holding his hands out. “My instincts told me I needed to come see my favorite Spider-based hero today and I have answered that call.”

“Did you now?” Peter asked. He crossed his arms and leaned on his back leg, though he kept Deadpool in his sights. The man’s randomness played havoc with his spider-sense, and while he sort-of trusted the mercenary, he couldn’t be too careful when dealing with such a chaotic spirit. “And what are your instincts telling you?”

“I don’t know,” Deadpool said in a serious voice. He snickered a second later and laughed, smacking his upper thigh. “I’m just kidding with you. My instincts are telling me to give you a heads up that this guy is going to be in your turf sometime tonight or tomorrow.”

Deadpool fished through a pouch before pulling out a sheet of paper. He held it out and Peter took it. Printed on the crinkled sheet was a photograph of a man Peter didn’t recognize. In crayon underneath, Deadpool had written “Bad man” followed by a smiley face.

“The guy’s an Omega and seems harmless enough when you meet him, but according to Weasel, this guy has more guns than I do and is looking for work with Kingpin,” Deadpool said, crossing his arms. “He’s my next hit and I thought I’d give you a heads up that I was in town looking for him.”

“I appreciate that,” Peter said, handing back the sheet. The Mercenary puffed his chest out in pride at the minor praise, and Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t convince you not to kill him, can I?”

“Nope! Client wants this guy dead and half of my name is ‘Dead’ so I really have an obligation to deliver,” Deadpool said, laughing. He put his hand on his chest and leaned forward in a half-bow. “But out of respect, I’ll drag him outside of the city lines before putting a bullet in his head.”

Uncle Ben’s voice whispered that Peter should stop Deadpool from his job, because no one deserved that fate, but it was drowned out by the very rational voice that said Peter couldn’t stop Deadpool from doing what he wanted.

The violent Omega was immortal, unstoppable, and a stubborn asshole when he wanted to be. He’d break Peter’s will to function before he could even try to make Deadpool change his ways.

But speaking of change—Peter sniffed and tilted his head. “Is that a new Scent?”

“You noticed!” Deadpool jumped closer and practically glowed. He raised both of his hands to frame his face and leaned his neck closer to Peter’s nose. “I decided it was time to shake things up! You see there’s an Alpha I’ve had my eyes on for ages, but he never looks my way.”

“I’m not interested in mating at the moment,” Peter said, taking a polite step back. “Nice Scent or not.”

“You can’t blame me for trying, right?” Deadpool put his hands on his chest. “You are like easily the top of my list of desirable mating partners.”

“I’m flattered, but I am going to have to turn you down,” Peter said. After his past failed attempts at relationships, he really wasn’t in the market for a mate—and that was before he took Deadpool’s work into consideration. He took a few steps back until he stood on the edge of the roof. “Don’t kill anyone in my town!”

He jumped off the roof, leaving Deadpool behind.

* * *

Peter snapped the cap back into place over his camera lens, making sure it was twisted into place before he put it away snug in its case. He’d finished taking all the shots of the mall’s new store opening for Jameson (something about his wife loving the store and wanting to give it more exposure), and was more than ready to head home.

He’d spent all night patrolling to take his mind off Deadpool and before he knew it, it was morning and he was almost late for the grand opening.

Yawning into his hand, Peter sniffed and hung his camera bag over his shoulder. He’d head home and a take a quick nap before processing the photos for Jameson.

A plan in mind, Peter put a hand on his bag to keep it secure and headed for the mall’s exit. He passed by the Scent store he’d been in the other day, slowing down to look in the window.

Maybe he should more of that Beta Scent while he was there since he was almost out of the first bottle.

Peter shook his head and kept walking. He’d get it later when he was more awake and prepared to deal with the staff. A random Omega coming to his defense wasn’t going to happen every time.

“You are way too nice,” a familiar voice said. Peter turned around and saw the Omega he’d just been thinking about in a bright red hoodie, with the hood once more pulled down over his head. He waved his hands, still wearing those leather gloves. “Considering that Beta Scent is working, I doubt you’ll scare them this time.”

“Hello, again,” Peter said. He turned and put his hands in his pockets as he walked closer. Despite all the Scent perfume the Omega had bought last time, all Peter noticed was that same, slightly rotten natural Scent. “How have you been?”

“As well as I can be,” the Omega said. He pointed at Peter with one hand and shoved the other in his hoodie pocket. “And you just dodged the subject.”

“Sure did,” Peter said. He found himself smiling at the callout from a total stranger. The Omega appeared to have his secrets with the covered face and hands, but he wasn’t setting off Peter’s spider-sense and seemed harmless enough. His body longed to end the conversation and go back to bed, but his amusement had him introducing himself instead. “My name is Peter, and it is nice to meet you again.”

He held out his hand and the Omega took it, giving him a firm sake.

“I’m W-Winston,” the Omega said. He let go and cleared his throat with a laugh. “Winston—funny name, right?”

“A little old fashioned, maybe, but not funny.” Peter glanced at the store again and shrugged. “Would you like to be my bodyguard again, Winston?”

“I would love nothing more.”

Winston opened the door for Peter and held it with a flourish. Peter laughed and stepped across the threshold, feeling more awake than he had a moment ago. The other Omega’s good cheer was infectious.

Peter spent the next ten minutes browsing Scents with Winston, completely oblivious to whether or not anyone else was in the store.

It had been so nice, Peter didn’t want the moment to end.

“Do you want to get coffee or something?” Peter asked when they left the store. He tapped his fingers against his camera case and lowered his shoulders. “I could use the pick-me-up and I was hoping to hear more about your perfect pancake recipe.”

The Omega shifted for a moment, hesitating enough that Peter wondered if he overstepped his bounds—but Winston answered, “Sure. Sounds great!” before Peter could worry too much.

“Great,” Peter repeated back. He took a few steps back and smiled. “I know a good place just outside of the mall.”

Together they left the shopping mall and entered one of Peter’s favorite coffee shops. They took their drinks to go and Winston made sure to write down the pancake recipe on a napkin before they parted ways.

He also left Peter his phone number in small print on the back of the recipe with a shy, “I had fun!”

Peter smiled at it before a thought struck him: “Was that a date?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t originally going to include Wade’s POV in this story because there were things I sort of wanted to hide from both Peter and the reader, but he was like “Here’s your next chapter” and well. I guess him and the Muse are colluding against me and he’s gonna’ get what he wants.
> 
> So my plans are thrown out the window, Wade gets a chapter, and you guys get let in on something before Peter. :P
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy!

_For a guy who said he wasn’t interested in mating, he sure asked us out fast._

Wade peeled off his hoodie and dumped it in a chair over his regular mercenary top. Maybe it was a costume thing? _Spider-Man was all business and Peter got to play._ He sure acted differently enough outside of his hero getup to lend credit to the theory.

_If it wasn’t for that Scent, we’d never known that suspicious Alpha in the store was Webs!_

_He wasn’t “suspicious!” Spider-Man was nervous and terrified._

Wade had to agree.

He’d been searching the store incognito-like for his target, when that glorious, amazing Scent of his favorite Hero walked into the store. Wade had looked around expecting to see that familiar red and blue costume, but instead the Scent led him to a timid looking man who kept glancing around the room.

It’d been so weird seeing the fast-talking and bold Spider-Man hunched over onto himself, that Wade had to confirm for himself that the Alpha that entered the store was _his_ favorite Alpha.

_And we saved him from the bullying clerk!_

Wade snorted and opened his fridge, pulling out a soda. He popped the top and took a sip before checking his messages on his civilian phone: Nothing new.

_You didn’t expect a call did you?_

_Nice or not, we spent the entire date hiding behind our hoodie._

_Hardly attractive._

But that didn’t stop “Peter” from asking “Winston” out for coffee. Wade took a seat on his sofa and stretched out his legs, staring at his phone. Through their entire coffee date, Webs didn’t once ask Wade to push his hood back or ask about the gloves. He’d been a perfectly polite Alpha the entire evening.

_Missed his Scent though._

Wade nodded to himself and threw the phone on the cushion next to him, trading it for the remote. It was shallow, but Wade adored Spider-Man’s Scent. It had a hint of warmness under the unmistakable ferocity that created an approachable Alpha that could rip your head off with ease.

Pure danger kept at bay by a kind spirit.

Spider-Man was one of a kind, and his Scent matched him perfectly. Wade had dared a closer sniff once or twice when they were in the city together, but he’d gotten shoved back for his trouble with a “Is this really the right time for that?”

_We were fighting bad guys in an alley at the time._

_There’s always time for appreciation!_

Wade clicked the television on and settled into the couch. Spider-Man had to want a muted Scent to protect himself. Wade recognizing him out of costume was one thing, but a bad guy doing it? That’d be trouble. The perfume was a good decision to protect himself, though Wade was surprised he hadn’t started doing it earlier.

_Like we do!_

“Not quite the same,” Wade said under his breath. Deadpool didn’t have a secret identity. There wasn’t much need to cover up his Scent to keep people from finding out Wade Winston Wilson was Deadpool—but it did have its uses. “I use it for distraction.”

_Nothing more fun than making an Alpha turn his head at a pretty Scent and then kicking him in the face with a boot._

Wade’s natural Scent wasn’t that attractive by itself. He knew it. Webs knew it— _We caught that wince when Wade got close in the store_! And bad guys knew it. He didn’t bother with it out of costume, but in costume? Wade was Deadpool. He was flashy. Eye-catching.

A strong perfume helped enhance the image of “I need everyone to look my direction when I shoot them!”

_Though it was also nice when Spider-Man noticed we switched it up._

Wade grinned, flipping through more channels. It’d been a spontaneous act buying the extra perfume in the store, to keep up the act that he’d been there as a customer and not looking for a target. He figured he might as well try a Scent or two out while he had them—he could shake up his staple, signature favorite brand!

_And Spider-Man noticed!_

Wade took that as a win, even as he was handed yet another rejection from Spider-Man.

_So what do we do with the invite to coffee from Peter Parker?_

He didn’t know.

A phone buzzed, but it wasn’t the one sitting next to him on the couch. Wade huffed and pulled out his work phone to see a message from Weasel sitting on the screen. He read the full message explaining that someone else spotted his target and was going to get there before he did. Wade snorted and got off the couch to grab his uniform and his new bottle of Omega Scent perfume.

Work called!

* * *

As promised, Wade dragged his hit outside the city lines. The Omega’s Scent burned Wade’s nose with each step. He had on so much perfume it went straight through the sack Wade had stuffed the guy inside, potent to the point of obnoxiousness—and Wade knew obnoxious!

The perfume was so strong, Wade couldn’t bring himself to open the bag.

_Overcompensating much?_

_You think he’d want to be more discrete._

Wade shot the target through the burlap and huffed as the red soaked into it. Wade kicked it twice for good measure before calling Weasel for the drop-off details.

“Did you run into the other guy when you nabbed him?” Weasel asked, chewing something on the other end. A slurp of a soda followed and Wade rolled his eyes. “If my info was right—and it always is—you would have been cutting it close.”

“Yeah, but he saw me and decided it wasn’t worth it,” Wade said. _The Beta mercenary ran so fast Wade wondered if he was enhanced._ He grabbed the deadweight in the bag and dragged it toward his “borrowed” vehicle. “Smart guy, that.”

“Infamy does have its perks,” Weasel added. “Are you heading back then? I’ve got a few other jobs lined up you can look at.”

_Might as well._

_It’s not like Spider-Man wants us to stay in his city longer than we have to._

Wade was pushing the Alpha’s tolerance on a daily basis by taking jobs at all in the Hero’s turf. But—

A phone buzzed.

His civilian one.

Wade dug out his phone while Weasel continued to jabber on the other end about jobs. A tiny text from an unknown number appeared that said, “Hey! This is Peter from coffee the other day.”

_Webs!_

“Call you back, Weasel,” Wade said, ending the call. He shoved it back into his pocket and giggled, resting one foot on the bodybag. “Let’s see what Webs has to say.”

After the first message was another text from Peter that said, “Sorry about the late reply! When I saw your number on the napkin I realized we might have been on a date. It’s been so long since I was on one, I wasn’t sure how to answer.”

_That’s cute._

_And gives more credit to that “I’m not looking for mates right now” attitude from Spider-Man._

Peter’s text continued and Wade grinned. “Anyway, I thought about it and kinda liked the idea of it being a date. Assuming that’s what you thought, too.”

“Yes,” Wade replied, forcing his fingers to type slowly so he didn’t seem overeager. “I absolutely assumed it was a date.”

_Hoped it was a date, more likely._

_Prayed it was a date._

“Shut up,” Wade muttered. He spun around and sat on the dead body, staring at his phone. “Come on, Webs. Answer me!”

A minute later, he did: “Great! I’m glad. Did you want to meet up again?”

“Yes,” Wade answered. “I’d love that!”

In the next moment of hesitation, Wade could almost see Web’s face light up in a smile a the positive response.

“How about tomorrow at six? I have some free time for dinner,” Webs wrote back. “Or is that too soon?”

“Six is perfect. Tell me where and I’ll be there.”

_I don’t think we can hide the eagerness._

_It’s a date with Spider-Man! We’re forgiven._

_A date with Peter._

That last correction gave Wade pause.

The next text from Peter listed the address of a small restaurant Wade had never heard of before with one last line of “See you then, Winston!”

_Winston._

Wade put the phone away and put his chin in his hands. There was a predicament: Did he tell Webs that he was Deadpool?

_Do we tell him we know he’s Spider-Man?_

The stench of rotting flesh overpowered the thick perfume as Wade thought through the pros and cons of telling Webs the truth.

* * *

“Hello again, Winston,” Webs said, raising his hand when Wade met him at their date spot. “I’m glad you came out again.”

Wade nodded, still hiding his face behind the hoodie. _Had Webs ever seen him out of costume?_ Wade couldn’t remember. Spider-Man probably knew about his scarring, but if he’d never seen it first hand he might not recognize it.

“I should apologize in advance for any awkwardness,” Webs said, rubbing the back of his hair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.”

_Hard to believe._

_Average looks aside, that Scent alone meant he should have been swarmed with potential Omega suitors!_

“Can’t say I’ve been in the dating game much either,” Wade answered. He held up his hand and flexed his fingers to show off his gloves. “Most people don’t seem to ignore the whole ‘that Omega is covered head to toe with clothes and smells like rotting garbage’ thing like you have.”

_Self depreciating much?_

It was going to come up sooner or later, whether Wade ever made up his mind about admitting he was Deadpool or not.

_Might as well get it all out into the open._

_Okay, that is a point._

“You do not smell like rotting garbage,” Spider-Man said, looking Wade straight in the eye. “As for the clothes, I figured we should have a few more dates under our belt before I asked about that.”

_A few more dates!_

_I like the sound of that._

Wade did, too—but one question did still linger on his tongue.

“So what does my Scent smell like to you, if not rot?” Wade asked, leaning closer to Webs. He was testing his luck, knowing the Alpha could probably see his face better, but it was worth the risk. “For curiosity’s sake.”

The Alpha inhaled, closing his eyes and Wade held his breath.

“There is a hint of rot,” Spider-Man answered after a minute. “But it’s more like…compost or a potato that’s long gone bad. It’s an earthy rot, though and nothing like garbage.”

_That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about our natural Scent since Weapon-X ruined it._

_That’s sad._

Wade snorted and leaned back. “I’ll take your word for it, baby boy.”

“Should we go inside?” Spider-Man asked, clearing his throat. He shifted, putting his hands in his back pockets. “I always feel better about awkward moments with dinner to accompany them.”

“Smart decision,” Wade said. He mimed throwing a baseball. “You can distract your date by throwing a roll and running when they go after it.”

Spider-Man grinned and Wade’s breath caught in his throat. He’d seen the teeth and the twist up of the lips before. Spider-Man was no stranger to pushing his mask up to his nose to eat or breath if he needed it. But those eyes? Seeing the way they lit up in affection and joy was new.

And so very good.

_Do not ruin this._

“After you Winston,” Spider-Man said, opening the restaurant door. “Let’s get something to eat.”

_Winston, again._

It was Winston that made Spider-Man smile like that.

Not Deadpool.

_We should still probably tell him._

Later.

Wade followed Webs into the restaurant and sat with him at the table. Despite Wade’s hoodie and gloves, they resembled the other Alpha and Omega pairs sitting in the restaurant, laughing and smiling together.

A normal date.

He could tell Webs later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I wrote a steamy spin-off from this story for a more angst-filled Omega!Wade (Helpful Scent, should you be interested) and now back to the original. :D
> 
> Fluffy date time shall ensue. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

_Way to start things off, Parker._

Tell your date they smell like compost or a rotten potato.

Peter sat across from Winston at the table, his nose in the menu. The Omega didn’t appear insulted over the comment, but it was hard to tell with his face shaded from the hoodie. When he got closer, Peter could make out lines in the shadows that looked line bumps or raised ridges of some sort—maybe Winston was scarred in some way and that’s why he hid it? After the “rotten” comment, Peter didn’t feel he had the right to ask.

“So what’s good?” Winston asked, flipping through the menu. He still wore his gloves and the rough leather made it easy to flip the paper pages. “I’ve never been here.”

“I can only vouch for the cold cuts,” Peter said. He put his menu down, forcing himself to relax. “They have great sandwiches and homemade chips.”

“Sandwich it is,” Winston said, mirroring Peter by setting down his own menu. “Can’t really go wrong with a turkey sandwich, right?”

He put his hands in his laps hunching his shoulders in to appear smaller—not that it helped much. Winston was easily a half foot taller than Peter and broader. He didn’t know many Omega with that build—actually, Peter didn’t know many Omega personally at all.

“What’s with that face?” Winston asked, snickering under his breath. “You look like you’ve had a revelation—finally figure out who you’re with?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, crossing his arms on the table. Winston sat up straighter and he held a hand up waving. “Nothing bad! It just hit me this is my first date with an Omega.”

Winston’s shoulders dropped. “What?”

“This is the first time I’ve gone out on a date with an Omega,” Peter said, leaning back in his seat. “My first girlfriend was a Beta, and then I was steady with an Alpha for a while. After that, I had a few flings but they were with Alpha and Beta.”

“I hate to be old fashioned but I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around an Alpha as nice as you with a Scent even nicer that has never dated an Omega,” Winston said, dropping an elbow on the table to rest his head in. “You aren’t beating them off with sticks?”

“I’m sure I have suitors, but I’ve been turning them down or just flat out don’t notice them.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Work keeps me busy, and I’ve had my mind on other things late. I can’t say I’ve been looking for a mate since my last few relationships didn’t work out.”

“So what made you ask me out?”

A fair question.

“I don’t know,” Peter said. He smiled and shrugged. “I guess it was instinct. I asked before I could think about it.”

The waiter arrived before Winston could answer, and after they ordered Winston started a new conversation questioning Peter about his work and when he had free time.

The answer must have been what he wanted to hear.

* * *

Peter swung onto a roof after stringing up a couple of pickpockets to a wall for the police. His patrol was almost over, but he wasn’t up for heading back to his apartment just yet. The night air was calling for him and wanted to stay in it.

He ran and jumped over an alley with energy he hadn’t felt in years and stopped once he found a comfortable corner to set up a web hammock and fall into.

The cool night air washed over his suit and he swayed back and forth in the wind. Peter pulled out his phone and opened his latest messages.

“Hey, Mr. Instincts,” Winston wrote him. The message ended with a series of heart-shaped emoji in every color of the rainbow. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Red,” Peter typed back, completing it with a red heart emoji. “Why?”

“Mine, too!” Winston typed back. “We have a lot in common, huh?”

Peter supposed they did. He answered back, “Yes” with a smiley face at the end of the text and rested his phone on his stomach as he turned his head and listened to the city noise below and around him.

Winston’s texts went quiet, but that was normal. He was spontaneous with communication, sometimes sending ten to twenty texts in a row or not responding until the next day.

But he always answered within a day.

Peter grinned under his mask. They’d only had one other date since they went out for sandwiches—both of them surprisingly busy—but they managed to stay in touch. Peter looked forward for their next meeting.

Excited, even.

The last time he’d had such a thrill was when he and Cat were still dancing around each other. That relationship had fallen apart with the both of them vying for dominance in nearly ever encounter. Like with Mary Jane, Peter had liked the tension and thrill that came with keeping each other on their toes.

His double life became a dealbreaker for both though—Mary Jane could not longer support Spider-Man and Black Cat had no interest in Peter Parker. They’d left him on good terms, but he still ended up alone.

Peter tapped his phone against his chest, pulling it up to read the screen again and Winston’s last message.

He wasn’t ready to have someone else leave him because of one-half of himself, and he liked spending time with Winston. The Omega had his own secrets hidden behind those gloves and that hoodie, so hopefully he wouldn’t mind if Peter kept his for a while longer, too.

* * *

“So, I think I need to come clean with some things about myself before this goes further,” Winston said. He had invited Peter to a secluded spot in the back of an empty restaurant. The wait staff ignored them and a large booth divider hid them from view of the rest of the store. “Because I like you a lot and you deserve to know before things get more serious.”

So much for Winston keeping his secrets.

“Okay,” Peter said. He swallowed and took a sip of water. “But don’t feel pressured to share unless you really want to.”

“I want to,” Winston said. He choked out a laugh and rubbed the inside of his palm with his other hand. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot and it hit me if our relationship ever heads in a steamy direction, this is need to know information—I mean, we could try the whole sex-while-fully-dressed thing, but I don’t think it’d be as much fun.”

_Sex._

Peter almost forgot about that part of relationships. He’d been so caught up in the joy of regular companionship, he forgot there was a physical component as well for those looking for mates. Winston was also an Omega—Omega had _Heats._ What if Wade asked Peter to help him with his next one?

Was Peter ready for that sort of commitment?

“Here goes nothing,” Winston said, breaking through Peter’s minor panic. He put his hands on the table and grabbed the finger of one of his gloves. He tugged it off, revealing his bare hand. “My whole body looks like that, face and genitals and all. It comes complete with chronic pain and the unique Scent you’re already familiar with.”

Scars and open sores covered Winston’s hand. Dark spots appeared to be open wounds that revealed the slick, wet look of muscle—though it was hard to tell if there was no skin at all over it.

“May I ask the cause, or is that too personal?” Peter leaned in to get a closer look at the hand. Winston raised his hand off the table and offered it. Peter gently took it and felt the rough, scratchy skin against his palm as he held Winston’s hand. “Was it an accident or is this natural?”

“Natural.” Winston let Peter continue holding his hand and reached up with the other to bite the finger tip and tug the other glove off with his teeth. He dropped the other, equally scarred hand onto the table and drummed his fingers. “It’s just the way that I am.”

Peter nodded, brain whirling with theories on how biology could create such an affect without human interference. He ran his thumb back and forth over the back of Wade’s palm, feeling each ridge and unique texture.

“I’m going to take a wild guess the skin isn’t a dealbreaker,” Winston said. He reached up and tugged the hood back, revealing a strong jawline and blue eyes alongside his bald head. The same scars and missing chunks of skin covered him. Peter looked over his face and trailed down toward his neck, looking at the top of his hoodie opening and wondering what the rest looked like—Winston squeezed Peter’s hand. “Though I might be concerned if you stare any harder.”

“Sorry!” Peter said, letting go of Winston’s hand. “I didn’t mean to stare, but your skin just has so many things to look at—it’s fascinating.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Winston said. He crossed his arms on the table, and turned his head away. He watched Peter from the corner of his eye and licked his lip. “This is me, though, and now you know why I wear the hoodie and gloves.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Peter said. He looked Winston in the eye to avoid staring at his scars again. “And you’re right, it’s not even remotely close to being a dealbreaker. I’m still really hoping we meet up again soon and I’m already looking forward to your next random text message.”

If anything, it’d be Winston breaking up with Peter in the future.

“Is that all you’re thinking?” Winston asked, his voice strained. “Nothing else is coming to mind?”

Peter glanced at the table—what else was he missing? What else was Winston hinting at—right. They’d started the conversation because Winston was interested in making their relationship physical.

Winston wanted an answer about whether or not Peter was interested.

“I was thinking it’d be nice to move our dates to someplace more personal,” Peter said. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for sex or helping with Heats, but he wouldn’t mind getting to first base while watching television. “Maybe we could meet at my place for our next date—we could watch a movie or something.”

“Perfect,” Winston said, exhaling. He leaned back and pulled his hoodie over his head when the waitress approached. Winston grabbed his gloves and put them on under the table as she refilled their glasses. “I’d love to see your place, and I’ve got a whole collection of films to share.”

“Then it’s a date—or another one,” Peter said. He pulled out his phone and texted Winston his address. He clicked send and steadied his breath—he probably owed Winston a more straight forward answer, too. “And maybe by our next date I’ll have a better answer concerning how ready I am for more steamier activities. I still need to think about that.”

“Take your time,” Winston said. He took a large drink from his glass and set it down. “I’m not in a rush or anything.”

“Me either,” Peter said. He nudged Winston under the table with the toe of his shoe and relaxed his shoulders. “But I have one question that’s still on my mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you ask my favorite color?”

Winston laughed and smacked his thigh under the table. He bit the side of his hand and started on a spiel about that was his little secret and Peter would have to figure it out on his own.

Peter looked forward to the challenge.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like “Peter Parker’s Perfect Shot,” I need to remind myself it’s okay to write shorter chapters. Sometimes that’s the perfect length it needs to be, especially for a story not meant to be especially long anyway.
> 
> In other notes: I added a tag: “Dubious Consent Due to Identity Issues.” Wasn’t sure if I should add it or not (since this story already has “Chose not to Warn” on it), and decided to just go ahead and mark it. Still debating if I need to upgrade that “Light Angst” tag to regular “Angst” or not. Lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy!

_Spider-Man isn’t too bright, is he?_

_I don’t think it’s possible to drop more hints than we did: We both like red, active night lives, our scarring, and really! Technically, Spider-Man probably knows somewhere in the back of his head that our middle name is Winston._

_And he still hasn’t figured out we’re Deadpool!_

_We could just tell him._

No.

No, he wouldn’t be doing that just yet. Wade carried a small bag full of snacks, drinks, and movies up the stairs of the small apartment building where Webs apparently lived. He made sure to grab something from a variety of genres to make sure he had something Webs liked.

_Peter._

Wade stopped on second floor landing.

_If you don’t start thinking of him with that name, you’re going to slip up._

_But what if we get used to calling him Peter and then slip up while we’re in costume?_

_Oh, right._

“I’ll just be careful,” Wade said, shaking his head and skipping up the stairs of the next floor. Webs said that he was on the third floor near the stairwell. “And if I slip, that’ll be a good excuse to come clean.”

_Since we’re waiting for Spider-Man to figure it out instead of just telling him._

“Sure am,” Wade said. He pushed open the third floor door and let it close behind him as he searched apartment numbers. _I think that carpet has a hole in it._ It did. Wade ignored the signs of much needed repair on the walls and floor. _We could buy him a new apartment with our spare change._ But not without revealing his day job. Wade knocked on the worn door with a missing number. “Here we go.”

The door swung open a minute later, with its owner greeting Wade with a wide smile that wrinkled the skin around his eyes and a delighted, “Winston!”

The Alpha’s full Scent hit Wade in the nose with a breeze from the drafty apartment. He inhaled and almost whimpered on the spot when he combined it with that fond smile aimed at _him._

_Why does he have to smell so good?_

_I hope he stays in the dark forever._

_Agreed. He’s never looked at Deadpool like that._

“Hey, Peter,” Wade said, holding up the bag and forcing his nerves to cooperate. The plastic crinkled around his gloves. “I brought provisions!”

“Great,” Webs said. He held out a hand and took the offered bag before stepping back. “Come on in. Sorry if it’s a little crowded.”

Wade stepped into the small apartment and put his hands in his front hoodie pocket. The studio apartment was tiny, with a kitchen along one wall and a bed in the far corner under the window. Small storage cases were shoved under the bed and he caught a door that had to be the bathroom. Webs had a small couch and a television on a particleboard stand. Near the bed, was a small desk covered in stacks of books and papers that looked like they’d been from college studies.

_Spidey is brainy._

“Do you want anything to drink?” Spider-Man asked. He set the snacks and movies on the couch and wandered toward the kitchen bar. “Or I guess I should ask if you want ice. I think I saw a soda in the bag.”

“I can drink from the bottle,” Wade said. He laughed at Webs’ nervous energy and plopped onto the couch hard enough to knock his hood back. A broken spring scratched against his back, but it wasn’t like it hurt anymore than his regular skin did. “Relax, would you? I’m pretty sure the Omega should be the nervous one being alone in a strange Alpha’s apartment.”

“Oh, you have no fear of that,” Webs said, returning to the couch with a wry smile. “My aunt would kill me if I made an untoward advance—and there’d be no hiding it from her. She’d look at me when I went over to visit and just _know._ ”

Wade bit his lip and stretched it as he grinned. “So only your aunt is the only thing stopping you from being a feral, wild Alpha—I got it.”

“She raised me right, what can I say?” Webs set a glass of ice on a crate next to the couch and opened the bag and pulled out the four bottled sodas. He looked at the movies and pulled an action flick out of the bag to turn if over. “Any preference, or are you letting me pick?”

“I’ve seen them all, so you pick whatever you like.” Wade reached for his soda and paused seeing his gloves. He tugged them off and grabbed the bottle with a bare hand. “But I will judge you for your pick. It’s an elaborate trap to base our compatibility based on your choice.”

_That’ll win him over._

“I don’t think there’s a safe answer to that,” Spider-Man said. He pulled out all the movies and held them in his hand, flipping through them. “And since I was hoping you’d stay for at least a couple hours, I don’t think I’ll risk it.”

Spider-Man handed the stack to Wade and covered his eyes with his hand. “Mix them up and I’ll pick at random.”

_I love this man._

Wade fanned the films out and held them at the base like a hand of cards. “Smart answer.”

“I have my moments.” Webs plucked a movie out of the stack and removed his hand to read the cover. “I guess we’re watching a romance.”

_We’re living one, too._

“Guess so,” Wade said, breathing in the smell of Spider-Man that was on every surface. His Scent permeated the couch and the air, both in the fresh Scent of the man himself and the staler, dulled version that sunk into the fabric. “It’s a good one.”

“I’ll trust your taste,” Spider-Man said. He popped it into the player and returned to the couch. Webs opened his soda and poured it into the glass of ice. “Let’s get this started.”

Webs turned on the film and leaned back, keeping a respectable five inches between himself and Wade.

_We should fix that._

Wade spread his legs and knocked their thighs together. Spider-Man stilled at the contact, his entire body freezing up and his back straightening. He looked Wade in the eye, the lip of his cup at his mouth mid-sip. Wade stared straight back. _Your move._ Spider-Man swallowed his drink and licked his lip as he relaxed back into the couch.

He didn’t move away.

* * *

The movie had sex scenes.

Specifically, two sex scenes.

_We didn’t check ratings did we?_

That might have been an oversight on Wade’s part. The movie had been suggestive from the start, but Wade had forgotten how quickly it dived into steamier territories. The first sex scene had been a pinch awkward with Spider-Man shifting in his seat during it, but they moved past it fast enough.

Then the second one started.

The scene joined the two romantic leads in passionate, graphic, sex that pushed the rating of the film.

A scene that had been going on for at least four minutes and they were barely through the foreplay.

Wade couldn’t stop thinking about him and Webs in place of the actors and he was horribly, unmistakably turned on.

_There is no way he can’t smell it in our Scent, rotted or not._

Which was an issue, because Webs smelled exactly the same. Wade couldn’t detect an inch of arousal in the Alpha’s Scent, which could mean a lot of things: The scene didn’t turn him on. He had a steel will that kept himself under control to be polite. Wade’s Scent killed any chance of arousal that might have been there.

_Lots of options._

The scene ended and then so did the movie.

_We really, really should have looked closer at the film when we threw it in the bag._

_Who would have guessed it ended on a sex scene!?_

Wade.

Because he’d seen the movie before and wished he’d remembered more about it other than “It was good.”

_The movie’s over and we’re still turned on._

Wade knew that.

“What a way to end it,” Spider-Man said, his voice cracking toward the end. He shifted again, like he was adjusting his pants with the same problem Wade had—only his Scent told him otherwise. “Is there a scene after the credits?”

“No,” Wade said, clasping his hands in his lap. He regretted that wanting to keep his thigh pressed against the Alpha’s, it also meant his legs were wide open and inviting. _He is invited._ Not the point. “It’s been longer than I thought since I’ve seen this…forgot all about that.”

“That was pretty good,” Webs said, standing quickly. He took his melted ice to the kitchen sink and set it in the basin. “The cast had a lot of onscreen chemistry.”

_And they were hot having sex._

_We’ve gotten off to this movie before, haven’t we?_

Wade had, which also was not helping his problem. He was still surrounded by an amazing smelling Alpha that could snap him in half.

“You okay?” Spider-Man asked. He didn’t look Wade directly in the eye and his nose crinkled a fraction, smoothing out quickly as if he was trying to hide the change in expression. _He definitely noticed our Scent._ Spider-Man stayed near the television, a hand on the back of his neck. “Or are you feeling as awkward as I do right now?”

“More,” Wade said. He snorted and shifted his legs closer together. “Because you seem pretty calm and I’m pretty sure I can’t stand up without embarrassing myself.”

_Blunt. That’s the best way to go._

_If we’re going to withhold the important information, might as well be honest with the rest._

Spider-Man carefully took a few steps toward Wade and sat on the other end of the couch. “Do you want to put in another movie or try making out to do something with all this tension?”

_He actually said that right?_

_We didn’t make it up?_

“Repeat that second option,” Wade said. He squeezed his hands together tighter and inhaled. “I want to make sure I heard you right.”

“Sorry if that was too forward,” Spider-Man said, leaning on the other side of the couch. “You hinted toward wanting something more physical last time we saw each other, so I’ve been thinking about it.”

“And?”

“I thought we could give it a try and see how things go.”

“Yes,” Wade said, not caring that he sounded desperate. “Absolutely. One-hundred-percent. If you like it, you can do whatever you want—heck, go feral if you want. I won’t rat you out to your Aunt, I swear.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t go quite that fast,” Spider-Man said. He scooted closer, pressing their thighs together again. The Alpha put his hadn’t on Wade’s thigh and he didn’t fight the full body shiver from the warm contact. “But I would like to kiss you, if you’ll let me.”

_We just said we’d let him do whatever he wants._

_Shush. Let him be romantic! We’re getting wooed here!_

“Sure.” Wade leaned over until their mouths were an inch apart. Spider-Man could close the gap and prove he wanted it. “I’m still hot and bothered from the movie and would appreciate it.”

_What part of we are being wooed and he’s trying to be romantic did you miss?_

_He didn’t miss it. We’re still painfully turned on and he should know that when decided to make out._

“I’ll see what I can do.”

With that last phrase brushing against Wade’s lips, Spider-Man leaned forward and kissed him. Their noses bumped when he pulled back to kiss him a second time, with another gentle peck.

The Alpha’s hand burned on his thigh and Wade turned in his seat to press back harder.

He wanted more.

He wanted everything while he could get it.

Wade earned a muffled yelp of surprise when he grabbed the sides of Spider-Man’s head and kissed him even harder. He opened their mouths with his tongue and deepened the kiss. Wade’s chapped lips scratched against Webs, but the hero didn’t mind and grunted into it.

Spider-Man took Wade’s boldness as a cue of his own and was more than happy to press Wade into the back of the couch, grabbing his thigh harder.

They broke apart after about five minutes, both breathing hard. Wade could smell Spider-Man’s arousal finally seep into his Scent— _We put that there!—_ and nuzzled their cheeks together.

Every inch of his skin was on fire from the friction and pressure, but the pain felt so good.

“Winston.”

That one tiny word stopped Wade in his tracks. The breathless, lust-filled name should have lit a fresh way of arousal through his body. It should have made him weak in the knees and desperate to hear over and over from the Alpha’s mouth…but it was the wrong name.

_If you’re going to come clean, now is the time._

Spider-Man continued to breathe hard, staring Wade in the eye. His questioning face said, “Are you okay?” without the words.

Because his Scent and eyes said he wanted more.

And he could have it.

“Kiss me again, Peter,” Wade said, forcing his mouth to say the right name. “Please.”

Spider-Man did.


End file.
